


Turning Points

by ramenator



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: 80s, Alternate Universe - Human, Historical References, Ill add more tags as we go, Multi, New York City, Sexuality Crisis, bo and woody living the american dream! B)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19729750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramenator/pseuds/ramenator
Summary: ((ON HIATUS))Two best friends Woody and Bo just want more out of life. So, fresh out of college, that's what they plan to do! As they travel on their journey through the jungle of NYC, they're bound to learn a little more about themselves, too.A.K.A - Toy Story 80s AU





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So!! This is my take on my own Human AU. Now, I wasn't born in the 80s, so there's bound to be historical inaccuracies. (And!!! you can call me out on it HMGJSKS) 
> 
> The rating will also change as time goes on. Just an FYI.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you like it as much as I do! Enjoy :^)

"What are we gonna do when we get old, Bo?"

It was a rainy, dreary day in 1974. On an old, raggedy carpet that must have been passed down so many times Pa must have lost count, (The sides were peeling, and it was beginning to develop some sort of old smell,) Bo sat over at Woody's house, strategically popping little pegs into his Light-Brite board. He watched beside her, guessing the picture she was depicting was a kind of pink flower.

She turned, a soft and knowing smile pasted on her face. "When we get out of school, I'm going to marry you, Woody Pride." Her grin was bright, and Woody gushed at her words. "We're going to New York city. We're going to have a farm there."

"But there's no room for farms in New York." Woody spoke his thoughts. He watched Bo return to the board, and wondered what it would be like to have a cow in an apartment? He heard Pa talk about how small they can be in the big city. How could a cow eat all the grass? Would it fit in his bedroom?

"I'll just make room." Bo said triumphantly. Her pigtails wrapped in soft pink ribbons bobbed as she spoke. "We're gonna have every kind of animal. And you'll help me find a unicorn, too! We will have baby chickens to cuddle every day in our barn."

She turned again to Woody, and Woody simply smiled in return. He knew that wasn't possible, as much as he would like it to be. He'd seen the black and white print of all those buildings. He heard Pa go on and on for what seemed like hours about the place.

But he couldn't ruin it for Bo.

Woody spoke again. "Where are we getting married?"

He heard Bo giggle, pressing her fingers against the pegs on the board to see them on her hands all lit up. "Momma said the prettiest place in New York was on the coast, or a big ol' chapel."

"Well, I sure can't wait for that."

* * *

  


They never did get married.

Bo turned out to be more of a free-spirit than Woody anticipated. She constantly had a big clique of friends at school, keeping her grades high and her spirit higher. Not that he was no longer best friends with her, but up until now, he had barely seen much of her around.

Woody just wanted to get through high school. It was awful. Everyone was so loud and on edge, always making each class harder and harder to concentrate in the more everyone was rowdy. Woody didn't make the best grades, which sometimes kept him in lower standard classes with the bozos, but he gave every day his all.

Now, only a month into college, Woody stood in front of Bo's door, waiting patiently with a jar and a bunch of papers in his hands.

The door cracked open, showing Bo's face completely defined as the look of tired. Her eyes were baggy and her clothes were just as such. She groaned, a free hand massaging her temple in what seemed like disgust. "I was asleep, you maggot."

However, Woody was unnerved. "Bo, I've got the greatest idea! Let me come in, I gotta talk to you about it."

She stood there for a moment, and it felt like a stare down between the two of them. Bo's hair was down and scruffy beyond compare, her eyes just boring into Woody for a moment. Woody just kept his goofy smile on his face.

"Fine, come in."

Woody practically bounded in, shutting the door behind him carefully before the both of them made it to Bo's dining table. He sat the jar and papers down, then took a moment to look at Bo again. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Bo spoke softly, leaning against the table. "All nighter last night, but the professor wasn't in class today."

"Yikes."

"It's no problem." Bo shook it off, turning to what Woody laid on the table. "So, what's all this?"

He picked up the papers, quickly unraveling them. "Hey, Bo, remember when we used to talk about going to New York?"

She was alert now when Woody looked up from his documents, an amused look on her face of sorts. She sighed, crossing her arms. "C'mon, Woody, we were like, 10. Besides, I'm not planning on marrying you, you dork."

"No!" Woody exclaimed, whipping the papers from his face to his side. "Nonono, I don't want us to get married, I want us to _go_ there. To experience New York City. Listen, I know it sounds like a long shot but-"

Bo chuckled loudly, taking Woody off guard and interrupting him. He gave her a puzzled look.

"There is no way in the universe a duo like us is getting to New York City. Hell, New York. Do you understand how expensive that's going to be?"

"I've got it all sorted out here." Woody waved the papers at her.

"The crime?"

"We can handle it, going to the right place."

Bo shook her head. "So what'll we do? Start hitchhiking now? Even from Virgina, Woody, there is no way-"

"I don't want to leave my best friend, Bo. That's you." Woody's voice was stern, and he really didn't know how else he was going to persuade her into this. Even to himself, the decision almost seemed impulsive. But honestly, the final destination seemed perfect. "I'm so tired of this town, Bo. I want to leave, and I know you do too."

Woody read Bo's face for a moment when she got quiet.

"If we start saving now, get out bachelor's degree, we can have enough money to get there and find a good job. We could make it in the big city." Woody mentally noted to the jar he left on the table.

He hoped he was completely right.

"And what makes you so sure?" Bo murmured, eyeing the jar, too. He could feel her uncertainty, as much as he doesn't want to admit to it.

"Because, I just know." Woody looked back up to Bo, his heart warm of the thought of them being forever best friends in their own, new world. "Because I just have to believe in the both of us."

* * *

  


When Woody left that morning, Bo eyed the jar for a good while. It was like she was tracing and memorizing it with her eyes, wondering if there was any hope for this expedition. She was excited, nevertheless, but she was just so… unsure.

Finally, she tried her best to push some of that stubbornness aside, looking around her house for things to start filling the jar. Some loose dimes and pennies were spread around in the bathroom, on her shelf in a little shell ring holder. In her living room, a handful of quarters.

After plopping them in the jar, she turned to her pantry. Inside, there was some flour, and behind it a small wooden box her grandmother had given her long ago. Inside, she kept paper money she saved for emergencies.

Taking the box, adorned with it's pressed flowers and soft paint, she turned back to the jar, looking at it once again. Of course, she could use the money for other things. She could always take it out of the jar. She didn't have to do this.

But maybe it would be better. If she could set one foot in front of the other, she wondered if she really could have a much more exciting and fulfilling life.

_Plop._

They would make it work.


	2. A Time for Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some look into Bo's home experiences, which is hinted at some emotional abuse/controlling enviornments. You can skip the flashback if desired.

Today was going to be exhilarating. She's not only just a few months out of college, but Bo already has her suitcases in hand, trotting to the jet engine set to fly soon.

It was an amazing feat, honestly. She still couldn't believe she was going to New York City. And to think she doubted herself two years ago… she felt so giddy now 

Beside her walked Woody with a pair of sunglasses he picked up at the airport on his head that strangely paired well with his trustworthy, worn denim jacket. Bo heard him huff, dragging the bags along beside him like an incompetent puppy.

They stopped for a moment, looking up at the carpet that coaxed them to walking to their destination, catching their breath. "I still can't believe it."

Woody turned to her, eyebrows raised, as if surprised. "Well, now would be a good time to start."

Bo giggled softly, however, quite amused by Woody's snarkiness lately. Something about him getting excited with his plans working out as predicted, she supposed, must have lifted his spirits up greatly. Bo took a step forward, giving a mischievous smile to Woody. "Then let's!"

The both of them didn't want to trip and fall, so they awkwardly speed walked up the ramp, laughing the way up. 

Bo was in desperate need of a new perch, she learned. Throughout pondering and saving up her money in what eventually turned into several jars, Bo imagined she could finally breathe in such an active place as NYC.

Or, at least in a figurative sense. Definitely not literal.

Woody and Bo handed over their bags to the attendant, soon finding their seats and getting prepared for the flight. Bo had reached for a tube of her "medical emergency" bright red lipstick when she heard Woody sigh melancholy. She turned, frowning too. 

"I think we would have been stuck here forever, Bo."

Bo followed Woody's gaze to see the window view, feeling kind of on edge with the plane still stuck on Virginian pavement. She gently put a hand on his shoulder.

Woody turned to her gaze, a solemn look upon him. "Well, we're not anymore, and we never will be."

They were quiet, now. Bo found it hard to remember the flight exactly. She sat back, eyeing other passengers, and glancing over the peachy inside and beige seats. Distantly, she could smell a distant cigarette being puffed, and the flip of a newspaper.

"Thank you for convincing me to come with you, Woody."

He hummed in reply, and in the corner of her eye Bo could see him drifting off to sleep. She imagined he was exhausted from the night before, having to make last second prepares, and even bringing an extra suitcase for just flight emergencies.  _ Dork _ .

She didn't want to admit it to Woody, but she was reluctant to leave, having been home since, well, forever. But at the same time, she knew she  _ had _ to leave.

The moment she stepped home, it felt like some sort of organized prison. Her mom, always energetic now, was quick to organize her existence piece by piece.

...

_ "Why haven't you found a nice man to settle down with yet, dear?" _

_ Bo shrugged, not paying attention. "I don't know, Momma." _

_ She heard her huff as Bo was sorting through various clothing. "What about your ol' friend, Woodrow?" _

_ "I don't like him like that." Bo found some t shirts, setting them aside discreetly with a soft pink cardigan of hers. _

_ "All my friend's daughters have some lovely men on their hands." Bo could feel her presence closer. "You're gonna let yourself waste away, yaknow." _

_ "I just don't...need anyone right now." Her form grew tense, desperately trying to pick out the last, salvageable article of clothing before- _

_ "What are you doing?" _

_ Her breath caught in her throat as she froze, staring at a sweater in her hands. Her eyes traces the intricate sewing of it's ridges, memorizing each bump. She didn't dare turn around. "Organizing." _

_ "Are you lying to me, Bo?" _

_ She didn't want to let go of the sweater. Bo kept it tight in her hands, like some sort of ledge to keep herself from falling off the edge of a cliff. But she had to let it go, setting it down beside her. And she didn't want to turn around, but she did, her brow knitted in the midst of her nerves rising with the inexplicable anxiety. "No." _

_ Momma leaned in, her gaze sharp. Sharp enough to cut the edges from her figure. "Are you sure, Roberta?" _

_ It was in that moment, Bo saw Momma had her hand carefully, and distinctly behind her back. She watched her slowly (and albeit, very dramatically,) pull her hand from behind her, revealing a bunched assortment of familiar papers. _

_ "How did you…" _

_ "Are you two running away together?" _

_ "No, Momma, it's not like that-" _

_ Momma's gaze was furious. She threw her hands in the air. "NONSENSE!" She exclaimed. "I know the way you work, Bo, you ungrateful thing. I keep a roof over your head and you go behind my back to be with some man…" _

_ Bo hated when Momma said that word. 'Thing.' It made her feel so small. _

_ "...and I've read all your papers. Everything you and this slimy wart wrote. Bo- Roberta. Are you even listening to me?" _

_ But today, something in her snapped. Something inside Bo breached her gates that kept every thought encased in some distant, locked box in her chest. _

_ "You don't understand anything! I'm not your child anymore, Momma!" Bo spat. There were so many words to be said, but so little time. She hastily yanked the clothes, her suitcase, and her wallet. She was glad she left the door unlocked, because as she ran to the door, she heard the keys jingle in Momma's pocket. Damn door was always broken. _

_ Bo swung open the door with a great force. She felt the air bathe her in a brief moment in an off relief. Quickly, Bo turned, her air in her lungs making her feel like she could burst in front of her. _

_ "And it's not Roberta," Bo felt every last bit of herself leave that home. "Just BO!" _

_ And in that final moment, she slammed the door with such force she was sure the whole shook next to her. She wondered if she could finally breathe. She wondered if she was finally human. She wondered if she could even ever catch her breath. _

…

Now she sat in the plane.

Bo didn't mind the smell of cigarettes. Oddly enough, she'd always lived in a smoke free home. There was no hope for anyone's lungs, anyway.

And she didn't mind the sickness that came to her through the flight. The idea of being thousands of feet in the air didn't even make her hair stand up.

No, Bo say comfortably and peacefully in that rackety plane. She fell asleep soon after Woody. She was, indeed, free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The year is supposed to be ~1984. Bo and Woody were 10 in the prior chapter's flashback, + 8 years, as they are just out of college, and the +2 for being in college and getting their bachelor's.
> 
> SORRY THAT'S A LOT OF MATH AHAHA


	3. Sleepwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm going to be gone for a while, here's a chapter I was waiting to upload.
> 
> Bo and Woody find a place to stay while they seek out new jobs and an apartment suite. It's not the most ideal place for Woody, however.

Getting off the plane, Woody was suddenly thankful for rest. It was still daytime when they arrived to JFK Airport Terminal. And he surely had never seen so much grey and white in his life.

On a tall building, Woody eyed what looked to be a gigantic satellite, like a crown on the metal monster. In the distance he could start to see buildings. Highways. Walks of foreign life that initially brought him to feel like an alien.

Beside him, Bo looked, too. They were both in complete awe. It was, strangely, a beautiful sight.

"Everything is so… big here." Bo spoke, her voice soft in comparison to distant machines and people bickering along the paved road.

They began to walk, however. (It was about time.) They briskly made their way into the airport customs, finishing their paperwork and receiving the little luggage they did bring along. 

And, good lord, there were _so_ many people.

Like, so many.

Bo and Woody, beginning to walk amongst the streets huddled together. The pitter of feet was simultaneously like war drums and energy sinking through the ground, bringing the two newcomers in a sense of awe.

For a while, they didn't talk much. Woody could feel their jackets uncomfortably rub against each other as they walked. It took a moment for his mind to actually wonder, thinking if they looked super awkward right now, and where in the world they were going. 

"Where are we going?" Bo must of thought the same thing.

Quickly remembering from his pre-planning, Woody pulled out a wrinkled map. Red sharpie was scribbled amongst the paper, and he felt Bo peering over his shoulder. "There should be a motel where i put a circle right...there." His finger sat on the paper where the ink ran, leaning the paper towards Bo.

"Okay, that's good." They continued to walk again, and Woody was even struck back by the little pigeons that rested along the ground. He had gotten so distracted, he realized he must have not heard Bo, turning to see her sigh in a frustrated manner. "How do we know if we'll have a room?"

That was a good question. The one thing Woody hadn't really put into a full thought process yet. He turned, smirking at Bo. "Maybe we'll just have to make do with boxes on the street I guess." That earned him a playful punch to the shoulder the moment the words left his lips, making him chucke.

"I would rather us not do that."

Following the map Woody had put together was a little difficult, but he didn't mind too much. He was glad to get a chance to see the scenery and get a feel of the energy. It was so much different than home. 

The booming noises, the chattering. Chanting. The smell of gas and cheap cologne coming off of the mass of businessmen.

He smiled, just walking. Just looking. 

They were definitely close by, as Woody pinpointed one of the turning points that was the street the motel sat on. He lifted the wrinkled map up towards the sun, allowing Bo to see, and drew his finger on the map. "Second Chance Avenue." Woody thought out loud. "Not too much further, Bo."

Beside him, he heard a tired, agitated sigh, making him frown. "Thank God. My feet are starting to kill me."

Woody would be lying if he said he wasn't too. The sun coming down on the both of them was draining, and with each step Woody's excitement was being washed over by exhaustion.

It was a few more minutes until they reached the foot of the motel. "Sleepwell Motel," as it was called. Bo sighed, already running ahead of Woody. "You coming or not?"

Woody was stuck in a trance reading the odd placement of a bible scripture and a Metallica poster on the side of the glass pane in front of him. It was giving him an odd feeling about the place for some reason, and he had a gut feeling the need to home search was necessary as soon as possible. 

Blinking, he looked away to Bo, putting the thought away as an overthought. "Oh, yeah."

The inside of the motel smelled old. The carpet was shaggy and burnt orange, clashing with the baby blue. Bo had picked up on it, also, making the comment: "These colors are really supposed to be coming together…" Her sentence followed a giggle. "But, yaknow, whatever."

"Let's just get a room." Woody murmured. 

They both sauntered to the front desk of the office, seeing a well built man with a shadowed face. The man sighed, rubbing the bridge of nose once the two of them approached. 

"Welcome to Sleepwell." His voice was almost robotic, eyes staring right through Woody. "What do you need."

Woody couldn't help to visibly grimace, his eyes faintly travelling to his shirt to see another rock band printed on it. The shirt was faded, however, and Woody didn't honestly care much about learning what it was. "Uh… we would like a room, please."

"One room…?" Bo whispered behind him.

"That's going to be 15 for the night." The man spoke. "10 dollar deposit on the sheets."

As Woody grabbed hold of his wallet, he turned to Bo, giving a stern glance. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing." He then found a crumpled pair of twenties, handing them over. The man carelessly tossed a set of keys on the counter.

"Room A34."

Woody quickly picked up the keys. He wasn't exactly sure what to say to the man, but he laughed nervously, gripping the metal tightly in his hand. "Thank you!"

There was a set of stairs to be climbed, and as Woody and Bo went to do so, Woody knew the question that rested on Bo's mind. "You didn't want to get two rooms?"

They reached the top of the first flight, finding the "A" hallway. Woody sighed, shrugging. "I dunno, we'll save money for one." He read each door as they went, and then turned to Bo for a moment as they walked. "Plus, Bo, I've got a bad feeling about this place. Might be best if we can stay together before we find an apartment."

He was surprised to hear her let out a huff, her lips curling in a soft smile. "You don't like this place because it looks fishy, don't you? Woody… keep this up and you're going to think they're selling meth at Radio Shack."

"Bo-!"

"I'm just kidding!" Bo laughed, stopping in front of their door. _This seems like a methy place, Bo…_ "I know you were grown up in your conservative household or whatever, but trust me Woody, not every 'colorful' place you go to is going to be dangerous."

Woody gave a questioning look, opening the door. "You wouldn't have said that two years ago."

The statement lead to a quiet moment as they stepped inside, getting situated in the room. Woody began to unpack his clothes, but he kept an eye on Bo, watching her remain silent and almost stoic for a moment. 

There was a nearby closet, in which Woody used to finish folding his clothes and lining them up on the shelf. 

"People can change, Woody." Bo spoke genuinely, joining him to put her other clothes in the makeshift closet. "I have, I probably will continue to do so."

Woody finished sorting his clothes, then put a spare pair of shoes he brought and his suitcase underneath the shelving. 

"And, you know," Woody saw Bo enter the bathroom beside the bed, still speaking inside. "I think you will, too."

Realizing there was only one twin sized bed, Woody thought about where he would sleep as he changed into pajamas, letting Bo's words soak into his brain. Woody stole a spare pillow on the bed, laying it on the carpet floor and using a jacket of his as a makeshift blanket. Then, he settled down. "Oh, yeah?" he laughed. "I hope I can change into a millionaire."

The bathroom door creaked open, and Woody heard the twin bed creak, seeing Bo's face peer out from above it. "I've heard millionaire's lives to be miserable."

"Really?" Woody pretended to be surprised. "I mean… still. Money, Bo."

He heard Bo sigh from above, and Woody laid back down, still turned toward the bed. "Well, regardless, we can grow as people, Woody. We're young, and we have a long way to go."

The rest of the night was quiet, but Woody kept thinking...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write the receptionist to be Warp Darkmatter but decided against it so here we have some random tired person but I guess you can percieve it as him. 
> 
> Also idk how plane trips work once you reach your destination (bc ive never flown) so I was very vague w/ the scenario. 
> 
> It'll be a good while until the next chapter, sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> *i meant to say +8 out of highschool hhh sorry


End file.
